68th Avenue, where a lone pedestrian
waits on the median to complete his trip across, is three scant
blocks east of one of the deadliest of Death Boulevard's intersections,
that being at 67th Avenue. The cross avenues just to the west
of 68th are 67th Drive, where the bright green signed store and
white bus sit, and 67th Road, where the terraced apartment house
is. It was in that building that our family optometrist had his
office when I was a kid. 102nd Street branches off on a diagonal
at the 67th Road intersection.

By the minute, on the cold late
Friday afternoon of February 22nd, 2001, I fought a losing battle
with the setting sun, as I strove to make it far enough to get
in 67th Avenue. As it was, this was as close as I did get until
the following afternoon. 67th Avenue can just be glimpsed at
the corner where the white faced row of stores ends. On the left,
an ancient warehouse building was getting a makeover in preparation
for its conversion into luxury condos. On the right is the corner
of my old optometrist's building. Though I'm sure their management
disapproves, many apartment dwellers with terraces tend to dress
them up a bit, as did the occupants of the two top floor apartments.